


Cats, coffee, an old apartment and, oh yeah, the apocalypse

by Kanene_yaaay



Series: Until the end [1]
Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Angst, Apocalypse, Comedy, Drama, Family Fluff, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, I don't if will be any romantic pairings, I will be adding more tags as the story goes by, Insomnia, Just a bunch of crazy beans finding each other in the middle of an apocalypse, M/M, Nightmares, Okay soooo Post Apocaliptic Scenario! :D)/, Post Apocalipse, Remy is a sarcastic beach, Remy slept during the apocalypse, Sarcasm, long-fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-05
Updated: 2020-05-08
Packaged: 2021-02-28 23:13:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,475
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23495119
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kanene_yaaay/pseuds/Kanene_yaaay
Summary: His gaze wandered across its casing in order to absorb the entirety of the damage caused, until his eyes got captured for something in the street. Or, better phrasing, the lack of something in the street.Cars.And people.And smoke, sirens and automobiles, any and every other movement or presentation of life in any form. He frowned, his mind running, scouring quickly through his memories in search of some memory of any kind of an interdiction warning that would happen in the neighborhood that day, or even some protest and/or strike his street would be participating. Nothing emerged from his foggy brain.Weird.He got his cell phone and cursed angry when realized the Wi-fi had went out. What the hell was that, an apocalypse? Clicked his tongue once more, adjusting his sunglasses before heading to his room, taking the last sips of his vital energy and then get dressed to finally go to a Coffe Shop and really have his breakfast.
Relationships: Sleep | Remy Sanders & Everyone
Series: Until the end [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1690507
Kudos: 5





	1. Beauty Full-day sleep

**Author's Note:**

> Heyioo, my lollipops! Howz everything going? :3
> 
> Wow, it had been a really long time since I made a long-fic. I think this is gonna be the shorter chapter, to be honest! This will be basically a crazy crack fanfic with more mentions to coffee than the healthy amount recommended by any doctor or people with common sense.
> 
> xDDD
> 
> Hope you like it! Oh, and little warning: Remy is a grumpy sh*t without his morning coffees.
> 
> That is it! Hope you like it! <3

His eyes opened at the very moment when the world spun at high speed around him and his tired brain couldn't understand anything before his wonderful and precious face had a beautiful, and totally inconvenient if you asked, date with the hard, cold floor.

Urg. Mornings are stupid. 

Remy considered simply ignore the expulsion he just received from his bed (How could you?! I thought we were true lovers, soulmates even!) and returning to his deep sleep on the floor which resembled wood, however, his sweet and insatiable wish for coffee screamed loudest, giving him enough strength to lift up his face, ignore the big red mark that now adorned his forehead, breakup with his (maybe not anymore) bed, grab his comforters as his part of the divorce, became a cinnamon roll with them, pick up his phone and head the kitchen as 'Shake it off' played on the background.

Coffee. Mug. Sugar. Why the Sun has to show off so much its light? What a bitch. Sunglasses. Cream. Cat. Coffee. Living Room. Someday he will need to pick this underwear up the floor but this day is not today. Broken window. Couch. Television. Coffe-

Wait.

Broken WHAT?

\- Motherfuc-- The furious curse died in exasperated no-so-muffled sounds spreads through his tongue as he moved closer to the pieces of broken glass which spread themselves until at least three feet from the casing of the only window in the room. A rock rested in the middle of the pieces, probably the one carrying the responsibility for the attack. Remy hold it, his eyes burning as hit the mineral in a so deep, strong intensity that if it had a mouth or a bit of love for its life, would be already babbling, between mercy pleas, all the culprits names. He tsked in disgust, his lenses shining as he deposited it in one of the shelters next to his television. Humpf. If that was a robbery, the robber was VERY mistaken in thinking that Remy would not use his contacts to find someone able in seek and detect digitals in inanimate objects. And then, when he found the guilty, he would take this very same rock and dig it right up their a-

Yeah, Remy was in a bad mood now. Thank you for noticing.

His gaze wandered across its casing in order to absorb the entirety of the damage caused, until his eyes got captured for something in the street. Or, better phrasing, the lack of something in the street.

Cars.

And people.

And smoke, sirens and automobiles, any and every other movement or presentation of life in any form. He frowned, his mind running, scouring quickly through his memories in search of some memory of any kind of an interdiction warning that would happen in the neighborhood that day, or even some protest and/or strike his street would be participating. Nothing emerged from his foggy brain.

Weird.

He got his cell phone and snorted angry when realized the Wi-fi had went out. What the hell was that, an apocalypse? Clicked his tongue once more, adjusting his sunglasses before heading to his room, taking the last sips of his vital energy and then get dressed to finally go to a Coffe Shop and really have his breakfast.

(What? Sure he would drink a cup of coffee before drink and appreciate his real morning coffee, he wasn’t a barbarian.)

He went down the stairs because as it seemed the power in the building had went out as well (He swear, this place was falling apart!) and Remy hadn’t a single drop of willpower to talk the unsympathetic, close-minded manager by the first hours of his day and ending up being arrested for aggression. 

His walk was bathed in silence, in the strangest way in a whole life where Remy never had the pleasure to feel a wave of peace for wherever he went. Not a single kid skating in the sidewalk, not a grumpy, angry adult shoving everyone away with their leather briefcase and espresso coffee in hands, not a pigeon nearly getting hit and not a sea of cars communicating with each other through a horned morse-code… Nothing. Just the fresh air of an cloudy day and plastics bags dancing and flying around with the calm breeze. The stores were a mess, as if they had come from a Black Friday terror movie. There were clothes spread in the pharmacies floor, games in the middle of restaurants and some non-perishable food in toy stores. Some windows of the establishment were equally broken, so the coffee lover tried to not take too much personal the attack in his sixth FUCKING floor apartment and attempted to concentrate in absorb all the scenario which surrounded him, instead.

His eyes fell in a graffiti in the facade of a electronic store, shining in between the sunshine as a exotic warning:

IT IS THE END.

And one more on the church doors:

HOLY WATER AND CROSSES TO EXTERMINATE THE EVIL 30% OFF

His mind went back to his own thoughts in that morning. A gelid shiver ran across all the length of his spine.

"What the hell was that? An apocalypse?"

His footsteps made an muffled sounds as he stepped in a crumpled newspaper on the sidewalk. He kneeled down to pick it, the title gleaming in mesmerizing colors in its caps lock, news covering most than half of the first page:

"IS IT THE END OF THE HUMANITY?"

And then Remy looked around one more time, newspaper slipping through his fingers as the perception of what really happened whilst his beauty full-day sleep finally hit him in its entirety.

He was… in a post-apocalyptic scenario.

\- Geez… Well, I never liked people that much, anyway.-- And then adjusted his sunglasses, plugged his headphones and went to rob the Starbucks' coffee stocks, because if this was an apocalypse it was time to establish his priorities.


	2. Your time has arrived

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gooooood day, my lollipops! It's been a while! 
> 
> Oh my gosh. It's colddd. I wanna sleep and write. How, my dears? H o w
> 
> Weeeeell, anyway! This chapter is a little crazier. Can you blame him, tho? Remy is pretty sleepy here. xDD
> 
> Poor, poor writing desk. :''3

Remy stared at the furniture in the middle of his living room with narrowed, uncovered eyes, since it was night and the Sun wasn’t capable to hurt his chocolate, brown pupil irradiating an almost palpable disapproval as he realized the contrast that such object had in his, now completely clean and reorganized, living room. Not that was its fault, sure, he observed while his upper lip twisted into a thoughtful, unpleased feature; the writing desk clearly had already seen better days. Days when its drawers were complete with all its handles, and scratches didn’t adorned the entirety of its length after surviving several moving. Or even a glorious past where its paint was impeccable and free of flaws, as a sneak that can’t decide with color better matches with their scales, therefore they just throw a variety of paint cans on the floor and slide into it in somersaults and the futile hope that it will work out, but then all the paints just get mixed in an old, strange color and then, I don’t know, the paint cans…

… They fall

And the snake... become a writing desk and…

Falls.

Or something like this.

Look, it’s 4 AM, just because Remy is awake into another insomnia episode, it doesn’t mean he is functional. You don’t expect a metaphor wonderfully meaningful, Shakespeare.

His eyes wandered through the desk’s extension once again. He has found a Furniture Store halfway to his apartment and now the picture of the said insistently shined in his mind, as if his brain wanted to tell him something but it was too much tired to formulate the message into words and for that reason it just threw random images in his synapses and hoped that would be enough. A handful flashes of memories gleamed in front of his eyes: The lustrous furniture, the small statues, pleasantly useless which everyone knows that will regret of buying in the exact second they step out of the store, the extremely difficult to clean, but also so comfortable and soft and big and soft carpets, beautiful writing desks…

Yes, yes, yes.

Beautiful writing desks, unlike that one, they had handles. 

Handles, writing desk, store, soft… Wait, his living room was also different. It was… changed, organized, new...

New as a writing desk he saw in a store.

Oh, yeah.

He had been wanting to redecorate his apartment for a long, long time, albeit he never found enough… time to do such a thing. However, which time is better than the present? When an apocalypse broke all the notions of economy formerly intrinsic in the society and the money lost all its value since there were no one in the city to valorize it, anymore.

Or in the whole world.

He wonder if there is still people in the world. Some part of Remy, that part usually pushed to the dark corners of his mind which currently was too much sleepy to attempt to hide it, hoped so.

What was he thinking before??

…

Oh, yeah. Store, soft (the apartment’s owner let go an annoyed scoff while glanced to his floor and noticed it didn’t looked comfortable in any way, as a child who didn’t gained his favorite toy. Yet, an unsupervised and with a total of zero self-control left in a store without any camera nor people and with enough strength to run away with his toy, child.) and redecorate his living room.

The coffee lover wasn’t going to overdo it, of course. He already had moved the couch to the other side of the room seeking to modify his television’s position and open free space to the future his gigantic carpet, which he definitely was intending to get. Comfy enough to sleep in case he falls of his couch (something that occurred with a, at least, irritating frequency) and became without reasons or will to get up, so he could just turn and go back to sleep. He also had already cleaned all the room, floor and furniture with a sweet lavender scent which maybe he had exaggerated a bit, no that he would admit that out loud, not even if someone threatened his coffee (Ha! Remy would like to see some bitch try). The only thing that was missing was the desk.

He clicked his tongue. Yup. His decision has been made.

“Sorrey, gurl, but I did everything I could. Your time has arrived.” and, with that emotional speech, he started to push it towards his door. Even empty, the furniture was a lot heavier than it seemed.

His arm muscles ached and his panting breathe was almost as fast as the sweat droplets sliding down his face, certainly only a consequence about how much heavy and almost impossible to move the writing desk was and absolutely not from the thousands of years spent bathed in sedentary lifestyle without doing a single one physical exercise. Pfff. Of course not.

His brain sent him an accusing memory of a lost battle against a pickle can tightly closed. Remy told his brain to fuck off.

The adult fixed his glare at the stairs leading to the ground floor and he could have sworn he heard each one of the steps mockingly crackling at his astonished expression, almost as if they knew that no matter how much Remy stared at them with hate, they wouldn’t disappear nor make the travel easier.

The only soul woke at 5 AM reorganizing his apartment in the middle of a Post Apocalypse tried anyway.

…

Shit.

He turned, seeking to change the angle and thus push the odious piece of furniture better, his gaze then finally fell on the window which had originally been completed and was now just a hollow shadow of his past.

(Remy was so good at poetry, seriously. He should write a book. He would get rich easily. He would make so much money until the point when he would be able to buy all the Coffee Shops in the world, then he will order someone to build the biggest caffeine shop of the entire world so he could spent the rest of his life there drinking coffee and watching generic Coffee Shops AU’s being canon. Yeah. It sounds like a great plan. Holy shit, he was so fucking smart. How didn’t he have an Oscar, yet?)

An epiphany struck his mind.

He looked at the furniture, the stairs and, in the end, his window.

…

Perfect.

A cat warily wandered down the street, his fur bristling towards the sky in an attempt to make them look bigger and riskier that they usually was, something which, honestly, just their two colored eyes shining mid the cold air of night as two danger signs was enough. The same eyes that now fixated themselves on the messy, shattered pile of pieces of wood in their most diverse sizes and shapes that definitely did not belong in that landscape. The feline hissed to the said before hissing towards of the steps which began to echo in the place, clearly showing their dominance before any and every living being that dared to dwell the same planet as them. However, in an act of mercy, the animal got a notepad from the wreckage and elegantly ran out, researching to their next victim. 

Remy threw some flowers that he found in a forgotten vase on one of his shelves on the remains of what had once been his desk. His ear still buzzing from the previous crash.

“We spent great memories together. You did your best and now it's time for you to rest in peace.” - Gave some reassuring pats on the wood and jumped back when a splinter got in his finger, probably karma. The coffee lover wished he had his sunglasses on so his clearly superior human gaze would obtain more effect (effect that didn’t had much help with how much he was shaking his injured hand from side to side, a few begin of tears taking over his eyes’ corners. THAT THING HURTS, OKAY???) - “Bitch.”

And turned away, hair fabulously dancing in the cold, stuffy nighty wind as he departed towards a Pharmacy nearby, which probably should have some tweeze. His steps sounding and being wobbly by the tiredness due all the exercises executed that night and the sleep, his rebel son, who had finally arrived from its walk. Remy asked to himself if the Pharmacy also possess some chair or couch for him lay down, since there was exactly zero percent of chances for him to use the stairs again in such a short period of time.

His thoughts were interrupted by a voice, calm and low, albeit of tune and words extremely clear, which had cut through the silent street. The sound was already so weird, new and incredibly nostalgic that, for a heartbeat, he was immediately paralyzed. Wide eyes trying to concentrate themselves enough in the form focusing midst the darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Throw flowers at the pile*
> 
> Coffee is, like... 90% of Remy's self control xDDD
> 
> At least he is absolutely, completely alone and there was no one for him bother with all this loud noises, right?!
> 
> Or any monster/alien/enemy to be afraid of!
> 
> ...
> 
> ...Right?

**Author's Note:**

> xDDDD  
> I have never posted any fanfic with Remy before, so this is going to be a really fun experience! I'm looking foward make this into a AU, so probably I will be posting the second fanfic about this universe in some days! I just need to think and elaborate the plot a little more!! \  
> \0\  
> /0/  
> \0/  
> Weeeell, I hope you liked it!  
> And I hope you have an aweeeeesome week and day as well! Tak care of yourself and don't drink (too much) coffee!! XP
> 
> Byeioo!~ <3


End file.
